"Um, I think it's Mother-in-Law Shrimp."
“Then I don't know what everyone complains about," he says, "because damn this is an in-law I want to take home."
I force a laugh as my stomach flips over. "Well, it's the only one you'll get to take home."
The joke falls flat, so I move my food around on my plate unable to take a single bite.
“Faith,” he says after a few minutes, "You're not the only one who grew up without a family.”
I know it's hard for him to say that, because unlike him I have a son now, and a grandmother I can still see even if she’s not well. Still, I appreciate that he understands how I feel, even if he only has a small inkling of the magnitude of my loss.
I abandon my attempt to eat. Folding my hands on the table, I steel myself. "There are some things I should tell you.”
He raises a hand to cut me off. "Let's not tell our sad stories. We can't revise our past, Sunshine. We can only decide what happens next."
"We write our own stories?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Exactly," he says with a grin.
The knot inside me begins to loosen. Maybe he's right. Maybe I don’t have to burden Jude with my sins. It’s too much to hope for that I might get a second chance, but he makes me want to dream.
“Wait, wasn't that the fortune I got on our first date?" I ask as it dawns on me.
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet to retrieve a crinkled slip of paper. When he passes it to me, tears well in my eyes.
"You kept it." "I keep the good ones," he says in a low voice. I raise my eyes to find his. "Are we talking about fortunes, or ..."
"It's a blanket policy," he assures me. I hand it back to him, along with my heart. I want him to keep them both safe. “Do you have a bunch of those in there?"
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He winks.
We descend into lighthearted banter. Jude feeds me from the various curries and noodles he ordered, and we decide that he likes Thai food as much as Chinese. This is how it’s supposed to be: easy. Perhaps we’ve suffered enough to earn happiness now.
“We should come back here. Maybe we can alternate between this and Lucky Dragon on Sundays,” I suggest.
"It will be nice to do something different," he says as he holds open the door to the restaurant. "Do you think little man will like it?"
I purse my lips and consider this. "It might be a bit spicy for him, but we can try."
Talking about Max and making plans with him in our future comes so effortlessly for us both. Jude might be right. Perhaps all I can do is focus on finding a happy ending for the three of us.
"Want to take a walk?" I proposition.
He gives me a once-over, clearing his throat a little as his eyes linger on my curves. "Won't you be cold in that dress?”
"I like the wind, remember? Especially coming off the sea." A huskiness filters into my tone and his face grows distant with the memory of our first morning after.
Unfortunately, we won't be able to reenact that moment on the public access beach that runs along the length of downtown Port Townsend. Instead I slip off my flats and we walk hand-in-hand along the rocky shoreline.
The days are growing longer and there's still a rosy sliver of sunshine on the horizon. Every few steps a jagged rock jabs against the sole of my foot, but I don't mind. I breathe in the salty air, Jude, and the magical possibility of twilight. But as the strip of daylight thins, the air whipping off the water grows cooler.
"You're trembling," Jude notes. Stopping, he wraps his arms around me and rubs his palms along my bare skin to warm me. "We should call it a night."
I tip my head up so that I'm facing him. "What if I don't want to?"
Jude licks his lower lip, and I know he caught the implication in my words.
"Your house or mine?" I ask.
“Sometimes I wish that wasn't a question.” He draws me close, leaving his last statement hanging between us. I sense that's not the question he's preoccupied with. My breathing speeds up. I'm not ready for him to ask anything else of me. I need more time.
Pulling back, he brushes his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes burning as intensely as the blue tip of a flame. "My house is empty," he says at last.
It’s an answer I want rather than the question I dread. I relax into his solid body.
"Amie insists you don't come home until morning," he continues.
"She does, huh?" I ask. "Are you colluding with my best friend?"
"Will I earn or lose points if I say yes?" There's a smile in his voice.
I swallow and make a decision. If I am writing my own story, then how do I want this chapter to end tonight?
"Your house," I whisper.
"Would I look impatient if I threw you over my shoulder and ran to the car?" He’s so close to me now that I feel the heat of his breath.
"Not at all," I reassure him. Part of me hopes he will.